


I'm Waiting For The Afterlife

by hirusen



Category: Darkiplier - Fandom, youtube - Fandom
Genre: Afterlife, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotionally Constipated!Darkiplier, Grief/Mourning, Language, M/M, Memories, Men Crying, Mention of Panic Attacks, Past Relationship(s), References to Depression, Reunions, Sad and Happy, Stop It Brain, Talking to the dead, Why Do You Do This?, graveyard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2017-12-08
Packaged: 2019-02-11 12:48:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12935619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hirusen/pseuds/hirusen
Summary: It has been so long since he's been here, but he needed to come.





	I'm Waiting For The Afterlife

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of Crossfire.

He sighed, standing outside of the too familiar graveyard. It...was still hard for him to be here, but he needed to be here; it was something that he needed to face. Steadying his nerves, he walked forward, heading for the black gravestone with pink writing etched into it. He swallowed as he once more read the epitaph.

**_Colonel William "Wilford Warfstache" Iplier_ **

**_1913 - 2017_ **

**_Died Defending The People He Loved Most In The World_ **

**_Beloved Comrade, Reporter, and Friend_ **

Damien choked back his tears. His hand moved on its own, touching the cold granite almost lovingly, his eyes echoing that affection. "Hello, Wil. I'm...sorry I've been away for so long." Dark spoke, his eyes tracing the name of his lover over and over. William looked over his childhood friend, his own eyes misted with tears. He looked so handsome, wearing his old three-piece suit, cane in hand, and his hair slicked back like in the old days. "I wanted to talk to you sooner, but..." He trailed off. Damien's lower lip quivered, biting down on it to try and control his emotions, his shell starting to crack a little bit.

Taking a slow breath, Damien regained control over his powers. Mark did tell him that this was going to be hard for him, but he needed to do this.  _It's going to hurt like hell, but Damien, I want you to go and visit Wilford's grave. In your own time, but...I feel like this will help you greatly in your grieving process._ His master's words echoed in his head, knowing that the man was most likely right. Still, why was it so hard to just even think about? He wasn't a human anymore, but he could still feels emotions; maybe that's why? Because he could still feel that this was harder for him than he thought it should be? Wilford walked over to his grave, standing behind it and he felt himself gasp.

Damien had color to his skin.

No longer was his skin gray, but that beautiful sun-kissed tone he's always known. And his eyes! For as long as Wil could remember, Dark's iris's has always been a pure coal black, but now they were a mix of black and brown. "...There's the man I've always loved." Wilford whispered and was shocked when Damien snapped his head up. "...Wil? Is that...you?" He cautiously asked, his eyes glancing around trying to find the origin point of the voice he hadn't heard in months. "Yes. It's me." Damien's eyes focused on the space in front of him, letting his auras expand around him and felt his mouth open when he spotted William standing behind his grave.

His auras felt...warm as they enveloped him, a small grin gracing his lips as he shone it for Damien. "...Come here." Dark hushed, watching as Wil walked around his gravestone, standing before him; his hand reached up and while he knew he couldn't actually touch him, he could still feel the traces of his warmth coming from his form. He coiled his auras back around his own form and was glad when the sight of his love didn't vanish from his eyes. "...I've missed you." Damien whispered like a mouse, so scared that his mind was playing tricks on him. "I've missed you too. How have you been, my black winged dove?"

Dark whimpered at the pet name; it was one of William's favorites. "I..." He swallowed. "Fuck...You're gonna make me cry, you bastard." Wilford gave him a soft grin. "I'm sorry, Damien." He shook his head. "No, you don't need to apologize. You've done nothing wrong." William looked to his feet, his eyes holding an odd sadness in them. "Celine...told me the truth. Of what happened in the manor." Damien's blood chilled. He was so worried about how his friend would react to learning the whole truth. He locked his eyes to William's and wasn't surprised by the sorrow he held in them.

"...Why did you lie?" Dark sighed. He glanced around and remembered that he had a blanket in the trunk of his car. "A moment, Wil? Please." The man nodded and he watched as Damien left from where he stood to head towards his car. Returning, Dark laid down the checkered blanket, sitting down in front of Wilford's grave, watching as his lover perched up on top of this gravestone. Having an out-of-body moment, Damien realized the tragic beauty of this image: he was sitting on the ground, on the earth below him, looking up to William on the gravestone, a man who had passed away, having unfortunately ascended into the next plane of life.

"...I lied because I didn't want to hurt you anymore than you were." Wil cocked his head, inquisitive. "You...you were in shock about what had happened, killing our friend by accident, that I thought it would be better to lie to comfort you than try to explain what was going on to you. I believed, at the time, you won't believe my words if I told you the truth." "I had watched his body...for 10 hours..." Damien glanced up to William then. "I sat in that chair, staring at his body for 10 hours, holding onto your cane so tightly; I was so scared, wanting it all to be just a bad dream..." "Wil..." Dark softly cooed, wishing so badly that he could touch the man before him, to give him more than just verbal comfort and reassurances. "And...when I saw him--you--get up, I-I... I thought that it was all just a joke...a sick, twisted one, but a joke all the same. After all, dead people don't just...get back up after not moving, not breathing, not having a pulse for ten hours..."

Damien's eyes lightened, his heart twisting in his chest. "...How long have you understood that? That a body getting up again after so long isn't how death works?" He said nothing. Dark swallowed, nervous. The topic of death and dying has always been a difficult one for William to discuss, even more so, Dark feared, now that the man actually was dead. "I...understood a little bit that people don't always get back up when Mark lost his friend. And, I think, I...I fully understood what death actually meant when I died." Dark felt tears running down his cheeks.

"You don't know how badly  ** _I_**  wanted your death to be a joke." He confessed. Outside of Mark and Amy, no one knew how he reacted to William's death, forcing himself to be cold and distant about the matter. "How much I wanted you to come back to life, but..." "You knew I wasn't going to. I know; you had that look in your eye, the one where you couldn't do anything to help and felt helpless in response." Wil spoke, his right leg dangling over the edge of the granite, the bend of his leg resting over the top of his left ankle. Dark gave him a weak smile. "You always knew me too well." "It's what I do best." It was a familiar exchange and it warmed Darkiplier slightly.

"...Does it bother you?" William asked and Dark raised a brow at the question. "Having your skin color back. Does it bother you?" The other glanced down to his hands at that. Did it bother him? "...No. At least, not anymore. When I first got the color back in my skin, it..." He swallowed his sob. "It hurt more than anything. Not physical pain. But...here..." He placed a hand over his heart. "I...guess it reminded me of you; the only real color I had left in my world." He choked on another sob, wanting so badly to wrap Wilford in his embrace and never let him go. "I'm sorry. I...didn't mean to hurt you." Dark shook his head. "Looking at my skin elicits nothing but the brightest, warmest, and fondest memories I have of you. It's a comfort at this point, Wil."

"It wasn't always that way." Wilford pointed out and Dark couldn't deny that. "...You don't know how many nights I've spent sleeping with Mark or Amy. How many times they've had to help me calm down, or just how many times they've comforted me when...when I couldn't stop crying..." "...I hate to ask, but did you...have nightmares?" Dark nodded his head. Wil studied his form before he opened his mouth to speak. "...Dark, have you talked to Mark and Amy about my death?" He jumped and William sighed. "When you get back home, for me, could you please talk to them? Keeping these emotions bottled up like this isn't good for you." The man on the blanket sighed, hanging his head before he held it in his hands.

"How do I even bring it up to them?" Wil's expression turned tender as he heard Damien cry aloud; he had never been one to openly weep, so it broke his heart to see him like this. "Try asking them how everything's been going for them; ask if they've been doing well. I know Mark very well and he'll pick up on the fact that there's something you want to talk about, but can't figure out how to bring it up. Once he responds to your questions with one of his own, let him lead. I promise you, they will listen to you." Dark weakly showed that he had heard the man before him, desperately trying to keep his sobs soft and un-noticeable.

"...Did you like the movie?" "Yeah. I...hadn't seen that one before, and neither had Amy." Wilford was trying to calm him down, comfort him with his words and distractions. "Family movie?" "Yep. It...heh, I think it was a movie you would've loved to see too." Warfstache grinned to the other. "How about when you come to visit me again, you bring one of Mark's laptops? We can watch it together." Dark returned the smile. "I...I'd like that." Damien watched as William got off his gravestone, strode over the length of his grave, and knelt before him. "Damien," He started, the ghost of his warm hand sticking to his cheek as he hovered over it, "please remember that Mark, Amy, and the rest of the Iplier gang are  **your**   _family_. They will always support you because they know, deep down in that heart of yours, you would truly do the same. You are never without a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on; so please, for the both of us, reach out to them and let them help you. Seeing you so...sorrowful and depressed makes my heart twist; I can't stand the sight of you in pain, especially when I know that you have the best pain killer in all of the world: a family full of love and warmth who is  _always_ willing and ready to support you."

The rivers of tears stained his face, but despite that, he smiled. In his heart, he understood that his best friend and the love of his life was right; Mark and the others have always been there for him, even when he didn't say or show that he needed them. He shouldn't have these doubts that they wouldn't be there for him now. "...Alright. I'll talk to Mark and Amy when I get home. I promise." And Dark was always a man of his word. They spent another hour together, reminiscing about their past lives as humans and the life they've lived after the events of the manor. And Damien has never felt happier in his whole life.

He stood after he checked his watch, a heavy breath escaping him. "Need to leave?" "Not like I want to..." Wil's warm hand echoed its touch onto his shoulder, getting his attention. "Celine told me that whenever someone I love came to my grave I could come back and visit." "Come back?" "From the manor." Wilford explained that everyone who was present in that manor will be sent back to it until they are all reunited. "The groundskeeper and the butler are there along with Celine and I." "So all that remains is the chef, the detective, and I..." "Hey." He chipped, waiting until Darkiplier had his eyes on him. "Don't you dare think about it. I will personally kick your ass and kill you myself if that's how I see you again." A smile spread Damien's lips and William was grateful for the sight. "Okay, okay. It would have been hard anyway if I decided to; Mark's been demanding that I tell either him or Amy where I'm going before I leave the house." Wilford openly laughed at the statement, and despite the sadness he still felt at having to leave this beautiful ray of sunshine's side, he joined in.

"Ah, that's the Mark I know!" Damien gazed at the ground under his feet, the blanket folded up and being held in his arms. "William?" He casted his eyes to the man, swallowing the nerves and fear that balled up in his throat and said, "I love you." "I love you too, Damien." Call, response; the quickly parroted phrase brought a different comfort to Damien, one he understood that he needed to know. Despite no longer being able to hold him, to touch him, to kiss him, to make love with him, William still loved him; and Damien was so grateful that that was never going to change.

"I'll see you soon, my licorice." "See you soon, my bubblegum."


End file.
